First Command (6 page)

As he was, Jonathan was forced to chat inanely with Richard for twenty minutes about the weather, before the true reason Richard had sought him was revealed.

“And how is that lovely house mate of yours, mmm Sumi that was her name wasn’t it?” Richard said as casually as he could manage.

Jonathan did his best not to roll his eyes, Richard had been inquiring after Sumi about once every two weeks for the last three months. A few months ago in what was probably one of the stupidest decisions since his academy days, Jonathan had picked a bar not too far from The Blue Moon for a Friday night happy hour. Though he was fuzzy on the details, he, Richard and the three others that were with them some how wound up in the Blue Moon where Richard went to bed with Sumi. Had it been a professional situation, Richard probably wouldn’t have thought a thing about it, except it had been Sumi’s night off and she hadn’t charged him. In fact, Jonathan had been quite shocked to run into a half-clothed Richard trying to slip out the next morning.  Jonathan would have been perfectly happy never to discuss the night or anything related to it again. Richard, however, seemed quite taken with Jonathan’s downstairs neighbor, and his early morning escape had been an act of cowardice rather than an attempt to avoid unnecessary complications.

Usually Jonathan could muster something-approaching tact when dealing with this, but today for some reason he just wasn’t in the mood.

“You know Richard she isn’t seeing anyone at the moment. Do you want me tell her you’ve been asking after her?”

Richard sputtered spilling coffee all down the front of his jacket.

“Um awfully decent of you, but no really it was just a passing curiosity.” Richard beat a hasty retreat past Commodore Sun who was just coming into the break room. Sun shook his head and looked at Jonathan with a reproachful glance something made highly unsettling because the entire left side of the Commodores face was artificially reconstructed. Sun a tall thin man was also extremely practical, and hadn’t wanted to spend another three months in recovery after his injury aboard the
Constitution
in the closing days of the Third Dominion Conflict. By skipping the end of his recovery time, the cybernetic implants he received weren’t given skin grafts thus rather than having a slightly odd looking face covered with regrown skin, Sun’s face was that of a terrifying cyborg complete with a menacing red artificial eye. Fear inducing appearances aside, Sun was a competent commanding officer worthy of respect.

“You couldn’t have let the poor fellow just pine in dignity could you?" Sun said.

Jonathan shrugged “Believe it or not she actually mentioned the other day she thought he was a nice fellow.” Jonathan rolled his eyes dramatically,

“But I didn’t join the navy to play matchmaker.”

“I don’t think anyone does,” Sun answered. “Never mind that now. I was looking for you actually, the Admiral wants to see you upstairs.”

Jonathan stood very straight. “What? When?”

Sun looked at his wrist chrono “He said as soon as you got in, but you weren’t at your desk so I’d say about twenty minutes ago.”

Giving Commodore Sun a perfunctory salute, Jonathan bolted with all the dignity he could muster toward Admiral Key’s office. The Admiral's office was located three stories above the JTDG. Jonathan had been to it twice before for briefings, but had made a point of memorizing the location. Trying his best not to breathe heavily, Jonathan opened the door to the outer office and returned Warrant Office Glover the Admiral's secretary salute.

“I’ll let him know you are here” Glover said walking into the Admiral’s sanctum. No sooner had Jonathan sat down, then he heard a harsh

“Well show him in boy show him in…”

Popping back up, Jonathan strode past Glover and snapped into perfect parade formation giving the Admiral the best salute he could muster.

Vice Admiral Bao Keys was a living legend in the Solarian Navy. Thirty four years ago, as Jonathan’s mothers home nation the Xi Confederacy and its neighboring states fell to the Ceti Commonwealth invasion, then Rear Admiral Keys had commanded the 7
th
Fleet guarding the Kendal system and the most direct route from the now occupied territories in to the Republic heartlands. The Commonwealth Junta, taking advantage of their militaries momentum, had tried to bash through Kendal and capture Solaria ending the Republics potential to challenge their dominance over the region. Out numbered and outgunned, Keys had lead a valiant defense in the best traditions of the Solarian Navy defeating a force twice his number and giving the Commonwealth such a bloody nose that their war with Solaria had been stopped before it truly began. It had come at a cost of the 7
th
Fleets sixty hulls. More than half were destroyed or damaged beyond repair, and the cost to Keys had been more personal -his flagship, the old and valiant battleship
Liberty,
had been damaged so badly. More than two-thirds of her crew were killed or injured and Keys was among the wounded. His back was so badly mangled that even modern medicine could only do so much. Crippled and forever forced to move with a walker, Keys had accepted his promotion to Vice Admiral, the awarding of the title Hero of the Republic, and let them pin the Medal of Valor on his chest. But, he had refused to retire or as he put it be put out to pasture. Now in his 80’s, he was still active in the Navy. He was charged with the development of new and improved tactics to win the next war. Sitting behind his great desk, Keys returned his salute shakily; the man’s mind might have been as active and alive as any, but his body was a wreck. Jonathan took a moment to take in the Admiral's office. It was a good size room, dominated by the Admiral’s large steelwood desk. The walls were lined with tidy bookshelves that contained not holo prints but old style paper bound books. On the right wall instead of a bookshelf was a holo display, currently muted, and tuned to the
Public Information Service
broadcast of the proceedings in the Capital. Currently, the screen was split between a nearly empty Senate chamber, which was in recess, and what looked to be a raucous debate in the Quorum of the People. On either side of the display sat two paintings. One was an elder man with impressive facial hair in a antique grey uniform wearing a monocle, and the other showed a middle age man with blonde hair, a truly impressive mustache also in an antique uniform, although his was blue, and he also wore riding boots and a antique revolver on his belt. Jonathan was still standing firmly at attention as the Admiral motioned him to sit down.

Looking up from the file on his desk, the Admiral shook his head in a jerky unsettling motion.

“Well, well so you’re the famous Pavel the Pirate, huh.”

The Admiral's words stung but Jonathan said nothing and didn’t let his emotions cross his face.

“Nothing to say for yourself, boy?”

“No Sir” Jonathan answered “Only that the inquiry into my conduct not only found me innocent of all wrongdoing, but commend my actions as in line with the best traditions of the service.”

Admiral Keys smiled, not the shark like grin he gave junior officers to intimidate them, but a kind grandfatherly smile.

“That boy would be saying something for yourself, still one best check their facts before listening to slanderous Ward Room gossip. So lets see what we have here.”

The Admiral began to read from the open folder in his desk. “Jonathan Marcus Pavel entered Overwatch Academy August 1
st
828 After A.E. after scoring 900 out of 920 on the entrance exam..hmmm usually such high marks for first years are accompanied by remarks from instructors such as ‘arrogant’ or ‘unable to work with team’ but yours seem to be mostly ‘natural leader’, ‘humble’, ‘team player’. The only real down side is a few questions of your sociability.”

Jonathan shifted in his chair. He hadn’t been highly social at the Academy. A fair number of Solarian officers not just Landed’s took the gentleman part of officer and gentleman seriously which meant extracurricular sports such as fencing and riding, or social ball attending.

“Oh” the Admiral said continuing, “I see you solved that second form. Yes, boxing. Seems at least one of your instructors thought it a bit too below deck, but I’m not sure Commander Hodge bleeds red like the rest of us. His blood is a distinct shade of blue,” the Admiral said referring to the first year Astrogation instructor, who also taught elective ballroom dance.

“Let see… oh yes promoted consistently and...my…my Commander of the Academy squadron by end of the second year and winner of the Dardin cup too, a first for a second year since Marcus Ho was a cadet. Advised…well…if I’m reading this correctly its more like begged to pursue engineering, but took the tactical track instead, yes comments such as ‘stubborn’ seem to profligate here. Graduated sixth in your class, and still the holder of the Dardin cup. Well this is a bit odd seems in your entire academy career you only earned three demerits -one for a curfew violation, one for telling a guest lecturer to take his social theories and quote shove them…well hmmm, ah and one more for damaging the face of one Terrance Foster. Tisk tisk my boy the Speaker of the Senate’s nephew no less.”

Jonathan straightened, “Permission to speak freely sir?”

“To speak yes, freely not yet”

Jonathan kept his face straight as he could “Cadet Forster impugned my family honor, and I addressed his insult in a fashion appropriate to an officer and a gentleman. Had I handled the matter as I wished it would have involved a rock.”

Keys grinned, a Cheshire grin at that, allowing good humor to dance upon his face. “Well it is nice to know my record of 469 demerits remains safe, but where were we ah… yes. After graduation, assigned to the
Republic
for your ensign cruise hmm the flagship of the Home Fleet very nice, noted as diligent and efficient.  Commissioned Second Lieutenant March 1
st
832 on the
Courageous
as Assistant Tactical Officer; awarded Humanitarian Service Ribbon Promoted during the Cordwell refugee crisis.” Keys looked up from the file, “I’ve been told that was a bad business.” Remembering the thin parched faces of thousands of people as they crowded around the drop ships to receive ration packs, Jonathan nodded. “Aye sir it was.” Keys continued to read the file, “Promoted to full lieutenant April 5
th
834 and assigned as Tactical Officer of
Apollo
. Well seems you distinguished yourself enough during the action against the corsairs in New Yukon to be awarded the Ribbon of Merit, and the Combat Ribbon of course. Yes, then promoted to Lieutenant Commander March 21
st
837 and assigned to
Turbulent
as Tactical officer, hmmm a destroyer to a heavy cruiser, but not long at it I see. A few months later in 838 your are XO of the
Valiant
with a promotion to Commander pending.” Keys stopped. Jonathan knew he would. This was the part he’d been dreading. “And it seems that less than a month after your promotion to Commander was made official, you managed to stir up quite the scandal. I have here the official report and the ruling of the inquiry, but why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened.” Jonathan took a deep breath. Ever since he’d arrived in the capital he’d been tormented by odd looks and whispers when people recognized him. In his own department, the whispers had ceased in a matter of weeks as his work stood for itself, but there was still the feeling of a cloud hanging over him. The worst part was nobody asked his version. People danced around the topic rather than ask Jonathan point blank what he’d been thinking.
Keys direct question was something of a relief, and Jonathan was too good of an officer not to answer his superior’s direct question when asked.

“As it states in the report sir we were assigned to TF-BB032 on the Commonwealth border. We’d been detached from the Task force for an independent patrol with the destroyers
Neptune
, and
Hercules
as consorts. We were in the Shabadokosh system two weeks into a four-week patrol. I believe it was 4:30 AM ship time when a fire broke out in main life support.”

Keys nodded a jerky nod, “The inquiry found the source of the blaze was a combination of faulty wiring and a substandard pure oxygen containment unit, a flaw that had gone undetected since
Valiant’s
most recent refit two years before.”

Jonathan nodded. “Aye sir, at the time we didn’t know what it was only that it spread fast. Lt. Ulman O’Malley the Chief of Navigation was on watch. He roused the Captain Dalvier, and myself but due to his inexperience failed to initiate lockdown procedures, allowing the fire to spread aft into the crew quarters and the ammo bunkers. A few minutes after the captain and I arrived on the bridge, we heard explosions and felt the ship convulse.  Captain Dalvier at that moment gave the order to abandon ship and left the bridge along with Lt. Ulman and most of the watch.”

Key looked at Jonathan “But you stayed?”
Jonathan grimaced “Aye sir, I did.”

“Why?” Keys asked.

“Actually sir it was because of the explosion. I knew the ammo bunkers were near the crew quarters directly above and below near the center of the ship the place that’s covered with the most armor. However the aft lifeboats section is located along the outer hull on the bottom deck again logically placed because it was the easy place in the ship to get to from engineering to the aft gun decks in a crisis. The forward gun crews have their own lifeboat section forward, and the bridge and turret crews use the central lifeboats. As you know sir, a ship’s main armaments are its rail guns, with secondary plasma cannons and missile pods the missile bunkers are forward near the main tubes. The rail guns fire depleted uranium slugs so no explosives, and in the plasma cannons only ammo is plasma. Bearing all this in mind, I took a moment to check where the explosion was coming from. It was in the bottom ammo locker where the
Valiant’s
Marine contingent kept its small arms, plenty of things to be set off by fire in there, but nothing that could threaten the ship. Moreover, the computer readouts were showing that the explosion and fire had destroyed the aft lifeboat section thus leaving a third of the crew no way off except jumping out the hatch in a vac suit, something that is never advisable especially since the ship was still in motion. Having assessed the situation, I realized the Captain had only vocally given the order to abandon ship nothing had gone over the PA. By this point alerted to the crisis, the bridge crew was arriving on deck and awaiting orders. I therefore resolved to try to save the ship.”